Page 42 of To Steal the Sun

“Actually, Gwen has a plan for that,” Charlotte said, thinking of the apple. “She’s found a way to make use of her stash of godmother objects.”

“Excellent,” the count said briskly. “In that case, we’ll find a way to make contact with the princess once everyone is safely hidden in the palace. We would have needed to do that anyway.”

“There’s one last matter,” Jett said. “We didn’t want to mention it with the broader group in case anyone became overenthusiastic and started spreading hints too early. But it would be best if we can include the people of the city in the changeover of power—and not just the prominent citizens invited to the wedding. I’m picturing a crowd who could burst into the palace in support of Queen Gwendolyn at the optimal moment.”

The count and his son exchanged a look, brows knit. Rousing the inhabitants of the city was outside their area of influence.

“We can help with that!” Natalie burst into the room, dragging Baden with her.

The rest of the adults gave her disapproving looks, but Charlotte just grinned. Of course Natalie had been lurking in the corridor, listening. Was there anything surprising in that? The girl didn’t believe in limits.

“And how could you help?” Lydia asked, somehow making the words sound kind rather than dismissive.

“We’ll send out word for the youth to gather. Since we gather whenever the boredom gets overwhelming, it won’t raise any suspicion. And no one would betray us to the adults.” She wrinkled her nose, as if such an act was unthinkable. “Once everyone is there—right when the wedding is happening—we’ll let them know why they’re really there and send them home to rouse their families.”

Easton looked thoughtful. “That might actually work.”

“Of course it will work,” Natalie said.

Charlotte suppressed another laugh. Natalie had an impressive ability to be both infuriating and likable.

“In that case, we have our plans.” The count rose. “And now these old bones need to get to a bed. Once upon a time, I could function on little to no sleep, but those days are long behind me, regardless of my form.”

Lydia led him and his son out, and Charlotte was left to wonder if there was any chance everything would go as they’d planned.

GWEN

The night had passed easily despite Gwen’s fears. She was still worried for Easton, but after their conversation, she felt a warm glow whenever she thought of him. And it was easy to drift asleep to the memory of his arms around her.

When she woke, her focus turned to one thing. There had been more than enough time for the apple to warm up to every object in Celandine’s collection. Now Gwen needed to find a way to sneak in there and steal whichever of them would let the rebels restrain the queen for the length of the wedding ceremony.

Timing was crucial. If she did it too early, the queen might discover the theft. But if she left it too late, Gwen might be swept up in wedding preparations and be unable to get away. Unless it would be better to assign the task to someone else? But who could get all the way into the queen’s bedchamber other than her supposed daughter?

Gwen’s mind went round in circles, and she still hadn’t finalized a plan when a team of seamstresses descended on her in a whirl of material, scissors, and tape measures. They took one look at the mess in her room and bore her off to an empty meeting room to complete the final fittings and measurements for her wedding gown.

Knowing she would be wearing the outfit when she married Easton, not Henry, Gwen couldn’t help taking an interest in the elegant concoction of ivory satin with a gossamer layer over the top. Looking at herself in the full-length mirror held up by one of the women, Gwen felt for the first time that she could be both a princess and herself. Princess Gwendolyn had been a mask, but perhaps it was possible for Queen Gwendolyn to be her true self.

When she finally made it back to her room, it was long past time for the midday meal. She was rewarded with the sight of a tray—the food cold but still edible. She consumed it ravenously and was still finishing the last bites when her door opened, the movement too tentative to herald Celandine’s arrival.

Gwen gulped down the final mouthful and stood to face Miriam. The captive’s face lifted when she saw Gwen.

“Oh thank goodness! Officially I’m here for the tray, but I’ve been checking every half hour, wondering when you’d return. I was starting to worry about someone seeing me popping in and out of here like a jack-in-the-box.”

Gwen’s lingering good humor from the gown and her full stomach instantly evaporated.

“What?” she asked. “What is it?”

“We’re received another order from the queen.” Miriam gathered up the dishes as she talked, placing them back on the tray. “We’re supposed to drug Prince Henry’s evening meal again, just like last time.”

Gwen sucked in a breath. “Charlotte must have used her ball to make a second deal! She should have told me!”

“Maybe she’s relying on you to handle it even without a conversation,” Miriam suggested, and Gwen felt warm at the suggestion of confidence in her abilities.

She nodded decisively. “And I will handle it. You’ll need to serve the drink, of course. We don’t want the blame coming back to any of you. But I’ll find a way to talk to Henry and warn him not to drink it.”

Miriam looked relieved, although whether at Henry’s potential escape or their own lack of involvement, Gwen wasn’t sure. Either way, she thanked the princess and hurried out of the room.

Gwen sighed and sank into the single upright chair. Plans to break into her mother’s collection of objects would have to be put on hold. It was more urgent to find a way to talk to Henry.

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